Alright, fellow tapeheads, slide that worn cassette into the VCR, maybe give the tracking knob a little nudge, and let's talk about a glorious slice of early 90s cheese: 1991's Suburban Commando. If you haunted the aisles of Blockbuster or your local mom-and-pop video store back then, the image of Hulk Hogan – decked out in futuristic battle armor, looking bewildered amidst picket fences – is probably burned into your retinas. This wasn't high art, folks, but oh boy, was it a mood.
### Cosmic Warrior Meets Cul-de-Sac Chaos
The premise is pure, unadulterated high-concept silliness: Shep Ramsey (Hulk Hogan), an interstellar hero whose catchphrase seems to be shouting variations of "I WAS FROZEN TODAY!", damages his spaceship during a battle and is forced to land on Earth – specifically, smack-dab in the middle of quintessential American suburbia. Needing time for his ship to recharge, he rents a room from the perpetually flustered Wilcox family, headed by mild-mannered architect Charlie (Christopher Lloyd) and his patient wife Jenny (Shelley Duvall). Cue the intergalactic fish-out-of-water hijinks.
What follows is exactly what you'd expect, and honestly, exactly what you probably rented it for back in '91. Shep struggles with Earth customs, uses alien tech to fix skateboards and thwart bullies, and generally leaves a trail of bewildered neighbours and minor property damage in his wake. Hogan, bless his heart, leans into his larger-than-life persona. He's not exactly stretching his acting muscles here, but his earnest commitment to playing the stoic-yet-confused space warrior is oddly endearing. He’s the ultimate cosmic boy scout dropped into Mr. Rogers' neighborhood, if Mr. Rogers occasionally vaporized garden gnomes with laser blasts.
### Lloyd Unleashed and That 90s Glow
Pairing Hogan with Christopher Lloyd was a stroke of casting genius, or perhaps madness. Lloyd, forever etched in our minds as Doc Brown from the Back to the Future trilogy (which had just wrapped up the year before), brings his trademark manic energy to Charlie Wilcox. He’s the perfect foil to Hogan's bewildered giant – skittish, anxious, and utterly unprepared for an alien houseguest who treats traffic laws like mere suggestions. Their chemistry is less about nuanced interplay and more about the sheer comedic contrast, which works surprisingly well for this kind of film. Shelley Duvall, known for iconic roles in The Shining (1980) and Popeye (1980), grounds the film slightly as the understanding, if somewhat overwhelmed, matriarch.
Interestingly, the script by Frank Cappello (who would later pen the much darker Constantine in 2005) was originally developed as a vehicle for Arnold Schwarzenegger and Danny DeVito, fresh off their success in Twins (1988). Can you imagine that version? While intriguing, the Hogan/Lloyd pairing gives Suburban Commando its own unique, slightly goofier flavour.
### Action Scenes: Charming Clunkiness
Let's talk action. This isn't Die Hard, folks. The action here is bright, loud, and often played for laughs. When cosmic bounty hunters (led by the scenery-chewing William Ball as General Suitor) inevitably show up, the resulting chaos feels perfectly suited to the era. Remember those freeze rays and vaguely defined energy weapons? They looked cool on a fuzzy CRT screen!
The practical effects are a huge part of the charm. Shep's gadgets, the bounty hunters' costumes, the occasional explosion – it all has that tangible, slightly clunky feel that CGI often lacks. There's a certain satisfaction in seeing Hogan physically interact with props, even if the alien technology looks like it was cobbled together from spare vacuum cleaner parts and Christmas lights. There's no attempt at gritty realism here; it's Saturday morning cartoon logic brought to life, complete with exaggerated sound effects. The direction, surprisingly, comes from Burt Kennedy, a filmmaker primarily known for his Westerns like Support Your Local Sheriff! (1969). His straightforward style keeps things moving, even if it doesn’t exactly scream "sci-fi epic."
### A Video Store Darling?
Suburban Commando wasn't exactly a critical darling upon release, nor did it set the box office on fire (reportedly making back only about $8 million of its $11 million budget domestically). But like so many films of its ilk, it found its true home on VHS. It was the perfect weekend rental – undemanding, fun, and just weird enough to be memorable. I distinctly remember seeing that cover art countless times, Hogan looking hilariously out of place, promising exactly the kind of goofy adventure the movie delivered. It became a cable TV staple too, one of those films you'd happily stumble across on a lazy afternoon.
Rating: 6/10
Justification: Suburban Commando is undeniably flawed. The plot is thin, the jokes are often predictable, and the acting is… well, it fits the movie. But docking too many points feels unfair to its mission: pure, unadulterated escapist fun, 90s style. It delivers exactly what it promises – Hogan being Hogan, Lloyd being Lloyd, and a healthy dose of suburban sci-fi silliness powered by charmingly dated practical effects. It earns points for its earnestness, its memorable central pairing, and its status as a genuine VHS-era comfort watch.
Final Thought: It’s a Hulk Hogan movie where he plays an alien warrior hiding out in the suburbs. If that sentence alone doesn't bring a nostalgic smile to your face, this tape probably isn't for you. But if you remember the simple joy of renting something purely based on its bonkers cover art, Suburban Commando remains a perfectly preserved, slightly goofy time capsule. Rewind required, brother!